Life / Death

Times for laughter, times for tears.

I just got a call that My Old Man, a 103-year-old man whom I've been visiting since maybe May 2003, just died. He has no family to speak of, as I've understood it. He never married and had no kids. Almost his whole family died in the Holocaust in Poland. As he grew older, he felt alone in the US. And wondered from time to time what the point was, noting that he was leaving nothing behind that anyone would want.

His birthday was February 8, 1902. The last time I visited him he asked me to remember it, and remember him on it. Now that's all I'll have. That and a painting of his that he gave me once.

There's my end-of-year update for you...